September 2002
I looked. I did.
Between bar codes on labels,
the glossy mass surrounding
your pupils,
and the spot between
Mars and our galaxy-that is,
if we are galaxy
I have tried to find it.
In the formation of words, sounds,
I've struggled to deliver
this aura lingering in my soul,
baking at the roof of my mouth.
Indefinable,
undefyable-
this message between
good and bad,
myself and my mind,
the link connecting man.
it pulsates rhythmically in the
hand you rest on my cheek,
and you wonder if the universe
is as expensive as my face.
No, not as soft, but just as full.
I look to the back of milk cartons for answers.
and I touch your palm,
upon the wrinkles engraved in us all
tying what we can
not relate as rational
thought, but rather,
as uncontrollable feeling.
- Elizabeth Mengesha
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